


In The Wax

by bravinto



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fortune Telling, Gen, Magic, internalized ableism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 22:34:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2126997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravinto/pseuds/bravinto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was Heligäs, the week of darkness and witchcraft; of all mysterious and transcendent, the week before the winter solstice. The time when spirits and entities from other realms were believed to reign freely over the human world. Hermann didn’t believe in spirits and deities, but he believed in patterns and cycles, and the Great Design, and some major meaning to the Universe. </p><p>Hermann and his siblings try to see their future in iraya's Dragon AU!</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Wax

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iraya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iraya/gifts).



Candles were lit in a small dark room at the top of a tower. Hermann was looking at the dim yellow flames and felt the same hot and shivering fire inside. Magic was awake and restless in him, and he felt a little sick with it. 

“Come on, Hermann”, Karla teased, “don’t you want to know your fortune?” 

“I am not sure”, he replied honestly. 

He knew whatever his magic were to tell him would be true – but could it be anything good?.. 

It was Heligäs, the week of darkness and witchcraft; of all mysterious and transcendent, the week before the winter solstice. The time when spirits and entities from other realms were believed to reign freely over the human world. Lars, of course, didn’t approve of these ‘superstitious practices’, but he didn’t dare to go against the tradition that was embraced so whole-heartedly by his people. He grumbled and made spiteful remarks, but did nothing to prevent his children from participating in ‘barbarian’ rituals. 

Karla was, as usual, the instigator of the whole thing. She gathered two of her siblings in the tower late at night (Dietrich didn’t come; “Weibischen Aberglauben!”, he snorted. Karla only laughed and said it was Dietrich who taught her divination rituals when they were kids). Bastien came along willingly, mostly for fun. And Hermann…

Hermann didn’t believe in spirits and deities, but he believed in patterns and cycles, and the Great Design, and some major meaning to the Universe. He believed that everything was in order, and everything was connected somehow, and that stars could open a lot about future and past – not through astrology, but through exploration and mathematics of it; an he believed there were times when the stars and the sun and the earth aligned in a specific way that could make human souls more susceptible to _feeling_ , that made every little bit of magic sing in you, if only you would listen to it…

They sat on the floor around a bowl of water and several candles, with a jar of young wine and dried plums for snacks. Karla picked up the bowl and started muttering to it quietly. She took a big candle with a lot of wax melted by the flame and held it in front of her for a moment. Hermann looked up at Bastien: none of this made sense to him, but he seemed to enjoy just being there with them. But Hermann could feel Karla’s magic dance dangerously in her. She rocked silently, shut her eyes and tipped the candle, pouring the wax into the gleaming water; and something invisible and elusive poured out of her hand alongside. 

After a moment or two she opened her eyes and fished the solidified wax out of the bowl. 

“Now, what in the heavens is this”, she said, looking at an angular shape in her hand. “Looks a bit like a wing?.. Or a bird?.. What on Earth does it mean?..” 

“Hm”, Hermann took the figure from her palm and examined it carefully. “Maybe it is a flower… with big leaves?” 

“No!” Bastien exclaimed suddenly. “Gimme!” 

He grabbed the wax figure and turned it upside down and sideways. 

“See now? It’s a ship! A sea sail ship!” 

Now Hermann could see it clearly. And somehow it made sense. 

“So what, you think I’ll become a pirate?” 

“I wouldn’t put it past you!” Bastien laughed. 

Karla sighed. 

“It’s not that I wouldn’t sail across the sea just to get away from here”. 

“Who knows, maybe you will!” Hermann said comfortingly. 

They all spent a minute in subdued silence, sipping wine from simple wooden cups. Hermann took Karla’s sail ship and kept it over the candle light to melt. 

“I wonder, what good my future may hold…” he said at last. 

“Aww, Hermann!” Karla patted his back and laughed. “My sweet little brother-star is bright and shiny, he deserves the best!” 

“Don’t talk to me like that”, he mumbled, but Karla’s words still made him feel better. 

The wax was melting in his fingers and dripping into the pool of transparent liquid around the burning wick. Soon flames licked his fingers. It hurt, but Hermann didn’t mind. He held the wax lump until it disappeared completely. 

“Come on!” Karla cheered. “Do it! Do it now!” 

Hermann let magic brew and hiss for a little bit as it surfaced in him, stirred by celestial bodies and anxiety, let swirly patterns spiral and align in his mind, then took the candle and turned it upside down over the water bowl in one short motion, without looking. 

When he opened his eyes, he felt a nasty cold shudder drag across his skin. He saw a small wax dragon floating in the water. 

“A dragon… Looks like it speaks about my past, not my future”, he sighed, twisting the dragon in his hand. “At least, I hope so”. 

He had enough dragons for a lifetime and had no desire to meet any more. 

“It’s not a dragon”, Karla said. “Your problem is that you just see them everywhere. I think it looks a bit like an arrow. Maybe you’ll be a warrior?” 

“Too late”, he replied bitterly. “Bastien? What do you see?” 

“Well,” Bastien said as he took Hermann’s wax, and guilt rang in his voice, “it does look like a dragon… But if I turn it this way, I sort of see a crown, too… Ha, Hermann, maybe you are going to be crowned? Maybe you will be a king?” 

“I surely hope I will not”, Hermann said. 

He was not particularly hungry for power in the first place. Especially if it meant that his father, mother, brother and sister had to die first. 

“Of another country?” 

“I don’t think so”, he said. 

_Who would want a cripple for a king_ , he thought. 

“Alright, gloomyface, gimme”, Bastien took the candle from Hermann. “For the record, I don’t believe in this, but it’s too much fun not to give it a try. 

Hermann had always thought that only he and Karla possessed magic abilities in their family, but now he began to think that Bastien had something as well – it manifested in a different way, through interpretation rather than divination, and yet it was unmistakably there. 

“Wait”, Karla said. “I’ll tell you when”. 

And as Bastien was stirring the liquid wax, rocking over the water bowl, Hermann couldn’t help thinking that maybe all of his family members had talent for magic, but were too short-sighted to see it. What if Lars had it, too. What if he didn’t trust it, just like Bastien didn’t; what if he had spent his whole life denying it? Wouldn’t that explain a lot? Hermann wanted to believe this; it would mean Lars was scared of himself and his own abilities, not just bigoted and ignorant… And maybe one day he would be able to see that magic was beautiful and natural and could be used for good… Hermann shook his head bitterly. How much longer could he keep making up excuses for his cruel father he always strove to please but never could?.. 

“Now!” Karla shouted, and Bastien poured the wax seamlessly. 

What came out of the water was flat and vaguely rectangular in shape. They all stared at it in wonder. 

“Uh… a mirror?” Hermann said. 

“A book?” Karla suggested. 

“Eh… I dunno”, Bastien said at last. “Looks like a board to me, but I have no idea what it means. Ha… my fate will remain a mystery!” 

They had more wine and tried to guess what Bastien’s wax could mean, but had no insightful ideas. Late hour and buzz and festive spirit made for a pleasant time. 

“What comes next?” Hermann looked at Karla, sucking on a dried plum, black, wrinkled, and hard. 

“ I know a good, scary trick with mirrors, but we would need to go to a building that is not lived in, let’s do it tomorrow… I also thought about bringing beans, but I forgot, sorry, brothers”. 

“Beans?” Hermann hissed. “Are you aware it’s illegal?!” 

“Yes, so what? And I am sure you’d be formidably good at it”. 

He just snorted. 

“You don’t have them now, anyway. Other ideas?” asked Bastien. 

“I know one thing with shoes, but it’s about _looooooove_ ”, Karla drawled the word and wiggled her eyebrows. 

“Not interested”, Bastien rolled his eyes in a manner that every member of the royal family mastered in their infancy. 

He never seemed to be paying much attention to relationships and affairs for some reason, and Hermann knew better than to pester him. Sometimes Bastien complained about long, boring talks of marriage that Lars had with him, but the lucky youngest son, he would probably get off the hook – like he always did. 

“Hermann, you?” Karla said. “My shoes are too pretty to throw in the snow, but yours are old and ugly anyway!” 

“Throw in the snow?” he asked, surprised, and looked down on his worn shoes. 

“Yes. You should take one off and throw outside over the fence, on the road. When a stranger picks it up, ask for their name. It will be the name of your love!” 

“Oh, I want to see this”, Bastien mocked. “Throw your shoe, Hermann, maybe there is someone other than cats outside at this hour! Maybe ghosts. Or ghouls, too!” 

“Don’t be stupid”, Karla elbowed him. “It is Heligäs, people are supposed to pick up shoes”. 

“Well, I wouldn’t! I never even heard about this shoe game”. 

“I wonder why!” 

Hermann let them bicker over his head and considered his shoes again. Good, but old and worn, and probably not a big loss if he can’t find them in the snow later… Love, you say? Yes, he was curious, but it seemed so distant, so unreal. _Will I ever even fall in love? Locked up in my father’s castle, weak and unfortunate – who will ever look at me?.._

“I’ll do it”, he said and took off his right shoe. 

“Finally”, Karla sighed. “Now, just throw it out of the window on the road, and we’ll wait!” 

Hermann took aim and threw the shoe into the dark with as much force as he could muster. Immediately after they heard indignant, loud, imaginative and accented swearing. They ducked out of sight in a fit of giggles. 

“You’re in luck!” Bastien doubled over with laughter. “Looks like there’s a knight who wants to whisk you away already!” 

Karla hung over the window sill and called for the stranger: 

“My good sir! Tell us your name, a man or a stray spirit!” 

Swearing intensified. Hermann saw a shadow shaking his fist at them. 

“Throwing shoes at my head, wind and fire! Burn you to ashes!” 

“It wasn’t me!”, Karla called, laughing. “It was my dear brother here! Now quick, good sir, tell us your name so that we know the poor boy’s fate!” 

“Karla, drop it”, Hermann tried to tear her off the window. 

“Get lost, I am trying to settle a good party for you”, she hissed at him. 

“How dare you, you drunk rascals!” the man fumed. “How dare you throw shoes at the envoy of King Newt, the young ruler of Nortfir, the Land of Dragons, who comes with a message to Lars the Builder, the King of Gradland!” 

“Karla!” Hermann begged and looked at Bastien, but he was no help, still laughing his head off. 

“This is all very interesting”, Karla said, “but what is your name?” 

Something swished through the air and Hermann’s shoe flew right back into the window, nearly hitting Karla in the head. Hermann heard a horse snore and clatter to the main gate. 

“His name is… Shoe!” Bastien wheezed. “Hermann, you will marry a boot!” 

Hermann shut the window and put his shoe back on. 

“I hope no trouble comes from this”, he said. 

“What trouble”, Karla said indignantly. “Let the poor fellow think some servants and maids were having fun at his expense. It’s a pity he never told his name, though! Well, some think it is a bad omen if they do. Whatever, at least you have your shoe back”. 

Now that Hermann thought about it, the whole story did seem funny to him. He smiled: 

“I don’t want to marry any footwear, still”. 

They laughed some more, and thought of other ways to tell fortunes, and finished off their wine, and all in all, Hermann had a good evening. Later, on the way to their bedrooms, Karla leaned in and whispered: 

“What do you think the Dragonking wants with us, anyway? In the middle of Heligäs, sounds like something important…Hope we are not going to war”. 

“That would be inconvenient”, Bastien said. 

Hermann chuckled, but magic was still singing with apprehension deep in him. What was the wax trying to tell him that night?.. 

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to include bean throwing in here, but it didn't fit!  
> also i took liberty with the names of countries, and holidays, I hope it is okay :D


End file.
